Candyman
by MismatchedSocksandKnickers
Summary: We were both odd to each other at first: but I guess all people are odd when they meet for the first time. At the end of the day, though, I was his Kiki, & he was my Candyman.  L/OC  Better than it sounds, trust me.
1. Graduations and Mr Creepy

**A Death Note story. L/OC. **

**Kiki: ANOTHER ONE? You haven't even finished your other stories yet!**

**Me: Do. I. CARE?**

**L: *sighs***

**Me: Oh, shut up & do the stupid disclaimer already!**

**L: Fine…Blondie-chan does not own Death Note in any way, shape, form, color, size, species, etc. She just owns Kiki & other characters that she makes up. Everything else belongs to those two guys whose names she STILL can't pronounce. If she ****DID**** own DN, I wouldn't be dead, and Light would've been caught sooner.**

**Light: HEY!**

**Kiki: Hay is for horses!**

**Me: Go away, I'm-a-gaY! You're not even IN this story yet!**

**PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

**xXx**

_Time is a wheel in constant motion,_

_Always pulling us along._

_Tell me, who wants to look back on their youth and wonder_

_Where those years had gone?_

_-I Hope You Dance, by Lee Ann Womack._

**Chapter 1: Graduation and Mr. Creepy**

Kiyoko POV.

**xXx**

There is one morning in every person's life where they wake up and know that something big is going to happen. That was my morning on June 23, 2010. Then again, it was a Wednesday, so I just expected a pop quiz in school or something: not that I was worried. I always got good grades. Teachers loved me and students loathed me.

Whatever.

My godmother, June, came in to wake me up that morning, and I was already up & brushing my shoulder length, straight, black hair. My godmother loved my hair, but hated it at the same time because I had put red streaks in my bangs. She thought I was damaging my hair. I pointed out that my mother had dyed her hair over fifty times in her life. (Guess who won that argument?) People always told me that I looked exactly like my mom, or that I had my dad's dark, onyx colored eyes, or this-that-and-the-other. Not that I would know, having never even MET my parents.

Oh, yeah. I'm an orphan. My parents were killed in a drunk driving accident a few days after I was born, when they were taking me home for the first time. Sucks, huh?

Again, whatever! I've learned to deal with it. _Adapt and survive_, that's my motto. I live in New York, so it's kind of mandatory.

….I'm being rude, aren't I? I haven't even told you my name! My name is Kiyoko Mori, but everyone calls me Kiki-and before you ask, **YES**, Kiyoko Mori is a Japanese name. That's because I was born in Tokyo, Japan. I was also born on Christmas Day: more presents! (Or less, depending on how bipolar America's stupid f*ing economy decides to be.)

Oh, back to my story!

So anyway, on Wednesday, June 23, 2010, I got up to do my usual morning routine: Get up. Take a shower. Brush my teeth. Brush & blow-dry my hair. Pick out clothes for the day. Eat. Go to Hell- err, school. I mean, go to _school_. Yeah, that's what I meant!

It doesn't take me long to get ready for school, usually. 10 minutes in the shower, five to do my hair, which I put some of into two small ponytails on either side of my head, leaving the rest down, and three to brush my teeth. Then, I worked on picking out clothes. I settled on a black shirt that said, "ZOMBIES make better boyfriends!" in red lettering, my black skeleton skinny jeans, and my favorite pair of rainbow colored high-top sneakers. For accessories, I chose a pair of earrings: one was a smiling milk carton, and the other was a smiling chocolate chip cookie. I also picked out two rings. One was a gold snake that I put on my left thumb, and the other was a chocolate doughnut with sprinkles that went on my right ring finger. I also ended up picking my rainbow colored cake slice necklace. I added my black eyeliner, dark blue contacts, and my favorite studded belt, and I was ready to head downstairs.

When I got to the kitchen, I saw June leaning against the kitchen counter drinking her coffee. She rolled her light blue eyes when she saw me.

"Last day of school, Kiki," she said & handed me an apple. "You ready for summer or what?"

"You bet! Last year of high school, Thank You, Lord!" I cried and bit into my apple.

"The Lord has nothing to do with this," she said sternly, & ran a hand through her curly blonde hair. (Yeah, June raised me Christian. Get over it.) "I'm just happy that you're graduating."

She gave me a small smile as I finished eating my apple. Today was bittersweet for her. Yeah, I mean, she raised me, but in her opinion, it should've been my parents wishing me good luck today, not her. But that was never going to happen, because some idiot decided to drink and drive.

"Oh! Before you go," she said, and walked into her office. She came back with a small green box with a gold bow. I hesitantly took it from her.

"What's this?" I asked. Inside the box was a gold locket with a small diamond star on it on a gold chain. Engraved on the back in elegant script were four words that I'd grown up hearing all my life.

_I Hope You Dance._

"Your mom had this made for you the day you were born," June mumbled. "You were too little to have it before, so I figured that when you graduated…."

'_I Hope You Dance' _was a country song by Lee Ann Womack. Basically, it was a song about the kind of life she wanted for her kids: For them to never hesitate or "fear those mountains in the distance, or never settle for the path of least resistance." June had always said it was my mom's favorite song.

When I finally looked back at June, she had tears in her eyes. My mom had been her best friend, almost her sister. She would carry my mom's memory with her everywhere she went, every single day for the rest of her life. It didn't help that she had to raise her kid.

"Thanks, June-Bug," I finally managed to say. I reached over and gave her a hug, which she returned. She pulled away after a while, drying her tears. I took the locket out of the box & clasped it around my neck.

"Now, go on," June said softly. "You're gonna' be late. Go on, go to school."

I picked up my black and red checkered backpack, before turning to look back at my mother's best friend. She was still drying her tears, and shooed me with one hand. Shrugging, I walked out of our kitchen, and towards my last day of high school.

**xXx**

My school is just like any other high school in America. We have the jocks, the cheerleaders & their cliques. The nerds & the over-achievers. We have the delinquents, the wanna-be delinquents, and the clowns. And you'd better believe that we have Goths, Emos, and Punks.

Despite being friends with people from all groups listed above, I, in my personal opinion, would like to think that I belong to a stereotype all my own. My very own social class where I reign supreme in a world of loud music from many different genres and manga books far away lands. Yup, that was me. The Asian girl that listened to country music and read 'comic books.'

On Wednesday, June 23, 2010, I sat in my usual seat on the school bus: Third row, two-seater, next to the window. That was **my** spot. The bus driver, Evelyn, greeted me every day in her thick Puerto Rican accent as I got on, and as I departed each day. That day was no different.

"Excited for the last day, _Niña_?" she asked me, and I nodded.

"All these kids," she continued. _"¡Ay Dios mios!"_

I knew what she meant. Half these kids were in my classes all day. I, however, ignored the screeching and yelling of my classmates, choosing instead to turn on my iPod Touch. I hit shuffle, and let the music blast at a reasonable volume.

Halfway through _Welcome to the Black Parade_, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Next to me stood a teenage boy with blackish blue hair and reddish-brown eyes. I removed one ear bud.

"Yes?" I said.

"Hey, can I sit here?" he asked.

"It's a free country, man," I said, and moved my backpack to the floor between my legs.

"So it is," he cackled, and sat down. This kid was creepy. Like, seriously, a solid **10 **on the Nuts-o-meter. He wore a black leather jacket, black jeans and combat boots, and I swear on my entire Naruto manga collection that I saw fangs when he smiled.. I raised an eyebrow.

"I've never seen you on the bus before," I blurted out. Mr. Creepy turned to me and for a second, I swore his eyes flashed red. I resisted the urge to shudder.

"I don't usually ride the bus," he said slyly. I gave him a weird look.

"Oka-ay….." I said, and went back to my music. About five minutes later, though, I happened to glance over at him, and I will admit that I was surprised to see him reading Death Note. 

"Hey," I said. "That book you're reading.."

"Hmm?" He checked the cover. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Is that Death Note?" I asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, I don't know too many people who read Death Note, that's all," I admitted sheepishly. It was Mr. Creepy's turn to look surprised.

"You read this?" he asked. I nodded.

"Of course! It's only, like, the best manga in the world!" I cried.

"So, let me ask you," he said, putting the book down. "Kira or L?"

"Hmm….I will admit that I haven't thought too much about it," I mumbled. "I mean, Kira is all about justice and all, but L is too. And besides, you don't have to kill a bunch of people to achieve a righteous world, criminals or not."

Mr. Creepy tilted his head back and laughed.

"I like you, girlie!" he said, and I felt my eye twitch. "Tell you what, since you're such a Death Note enthusiast, I'll let you borrow this here book for the day. How's that?"

Any irritation I had about being called 'girlie' faded away and joy quickly took it's place.

"A-Are you serious, man?" I managed to get out. Mr. Creepy nodded.

"Just give it back at the end of the day," he said with a smirk. Looking back now, I realize that I had missed a glint in his eyes, and to this day, I still can't place it. Maybe it was knowingness, or mischief. Maybe it was insanity. Whatever it was, I ignored as the manga transferred from his hand to mine.

Call me crazy, but when I held that book for the very first time, I felt a small jolt of electricity. Maybe it was because I'd woken up that morning feeling like something was going to change. Maybe this was what was going to bring about that change.

**xXx**

The first part of school passed quickly that day, in a blur of yearbooks being signed and loud chatter. Before I knew it, I was headed to lunch with my best friends, JoJo and Amber.

JoJo McGinty was a short, pale girl of Irish descent with brown hair that, when in the right light, had a red tint to it. Her excited emerald eyes took in every single detail around her, scrutinizing and analyzing everything. Maybe that was why she spent most of her time in the library.

Amber Alleyne was her exact opposite. A tall, dark skinned girl, Amber was captain of the basketball team. Her chocolate brown eyes seemed to stare right through you, as if judging your very soul. She wasn't exactly someone you'd want to mess with: being suspended twice for fighting does a wonder for someone's reputation.

The three of us sat at our usual table in the back, right next to the doors.

"So, how's your last day going so far?" Amber asked as we sat down. None of us really ate lunch, we mostly used our lunch period to hang out.

"Alright, I guess," I shrugged, and JoJo repeated it in a squeak.

"I'm going to head on over to the library in a few. I owe Mrs. G. some books," I said. "If any of you want to come with me..?"

"Nah," Amber sounded, shaking her head. "Coach wants the whole team for pictures before the end of the day. She'll kill me if I skip it."

"I'm going to get some of the teachers to sign my yearbook," JoJo mumbled.

"Alright, well-"

I was cut off as a paper ball smacked me in the head. Some boys across the lunch room laughed. Amber's eyes flashed dangerously, and she grabbed the ball.

"You nappy headed m*f*ers!" she screamed. "If you ever through something across this f*ing lunch room again, I will beat your head in after school! You got that?"

The entire lunch room grew quiet in the wake of her outburst, until one allergy-ridden student coughed behind his hand. Amber's head snapped around.

"Who coughed?" she demanded, and said student fled the room in terror. Amber looked around, before making the 'I'm-Watching-You' sign, and dismissing the students with a wave of her hand. Chatter resumed at a lower volume. Most students knew better than to mess with Amber.

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm gonna' go see Coach," she said slowly, and grabbed her bag.

"I'll catch up with you guys in History," I said and JoJo and I grabbed our book bags. With a final wave, we parted, with me going out the side door to cross campus to the library. I fished Mr. Creepy's copy of Death Note out of my bag, and began where I left off. It was Chapter 58, the chapter where L dies. It was a sad chapter for me, because L had always been a favorite character of mine. A part of me briefly wondered what would happen if I ever met L. Maybe that was why I didn't hear the car coming, or feel it hit me as I crossed the street. All I felt was my head hit the pavement, and Mr. Creepy's Death Note copy slip from my grasp.

**xXx**

I awoke an unknown amount of time later to the sound of a single. solitary voice.

"Miss?" said the voice. Definitely a man and he sounded…_old. _Then, the pain hit me all at once, like an ocean wave hitting the shore. I groaned lowly, and made to move, but stopped on account of the new sharp sting in my head.

"Ow," I moaned. "-The hell, man?"

I opened my eyes slowly to see a very elderly man leaning over me (as best an old man could, of course.) He had white hair (typical of old people) and glasses that covered his blue eyes. The man wore an expensive looking black suit, which made me think that he was a very important person.

AND HE JUST RAN ME OVER!

"Miss, are you alright?" asked the man. I opened my mouth to reply, but I realized something.- **The man had spoken in Japanese**. I still couldn't respond to him properly, and I was then hit with the greatest realization of my life. That fact that I _recognized_ this random old man who'd just run me over with his car. His name was Watari, and he was a character from Death Note. Which I had happened to have been reading when I was hit.

I felt very tired all of a sudden, and despite all of my will, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the pavement as I lost consciousness.

**xXx**

**..the first person to figure out who "Mr. Creepy" is gets a virtual cookie.**

**Oh, PS, this Chapter is dedicated to Nina, Lily, Kiki, & Ashley, for without whom I would have little to no inspiration. (Yes, I really do have a friend named Kiki..) **

**So, bitches, read up.**

**R&R please! (Especially Lily, 'cause I know for a fact that she's reading this. -_-)**


	2. AN UPDATE FOR ALL STORIES

AN UPDATE FOR ALL STORIES AND ADRESSING REVIEWS

Greetings, darling readers. As you know, these stories have been abandoned for quite some time. I haven't really had much inspiration for, well, anything.

I wrote these stories as a juvenile. My writing style has progressed greatly as I have aged and matured, and I realize now that I have some serious errors and inconsistencies in my writing. That being said, I shall be either removing these stories entirely, or I shall simply renew them. School is keeping me quite busy, and I am striving towards progressing my poetry career. Family issues and problems of my own are preventing me from writing anymore.

Expect the same course of action on my other stories.

Thank you for reading and for reviewing.

~mismatched


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